


Lost in Translation

by wanderlustt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustt/pseuds/wanderlustt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First encounters are rarely remarkable. Kuroo might’ve been another face in the sea of volleyball players Oikawa couldn’t care less about, but things were hardly that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Translation

Their first encounter was unceremonious, involving a brief practice set at a regional tournament between Miyagi and Kanto.

After failing out in the semi-finals, both teams owed it to themselves to find some kind of productivity in the remainder of their trip before returning home and prepping for the distract phase of the Interhigh preliminaries. Naturally, some casual banter formed between Nekomata-sensei and Irihata-sensei and they decided it would be in their best interest to defeat their rivals, which involved actually learning from each other.

And so, a scrim set was scheduled.

* * *

 

Dark and twisty.

Those would be the first two words to pop into Oikawa’s head as he caught sight of Kuroo’s gaze from across the gymnasium.

Although he hadn’t actually met him in person, he’d heard of his name. Not surprisingly, the volleyball world was a bubble, and the dark-haired captain of Nekoma High fit into the perfect compartment Oikawa created for him.

Putting on a smile he had practiced down to perfection, Oikawa reached a hand underneath the volleyball net, “Let’s have a good game.” _Let’s see what you got, bedhead._

Kuroo reciprocated the gesture, the corners of his lips tipping to form the faintest smirk, “We’re looking forward to it.” _When’s your smile going to crack, captain?_

* * *

 

No, Kuroo wasn’t the most impressive player.

Definitely not the most powerful. That title belonged rightfully (and painfully) to Ushijima.

And he definitely didn’t have the most refined technique. That title might just belong to Oikawa himself, he thought, as he bounced the ball against the hardwood floor of the gymnasium.

Glancing over at Nekoma’s setter, the pudding head with a grimace on his face, Oikawa cocked his head to the side. He looked unremarkable and yet–Oikawa knew that he might be one of the most formidable setters he’d ever played against.

The score was even, but he was in no panic to race ahead. After all, the first set would give him a chance to test the waters–to feel out his opponent. In the end, he knew that was exactly what Nekoma was trying to do too.

“We finally get to see this ever-so-coveted power serve that’s all that rage in Miyagi, huh,” Kuroo remarked casually, gaze resting on the pensive brunette standing on the opposite side of the net.

Tossing the ball up into the air, Oikawa dashed forward, jumped high, and reached his arm out until he touched the tipping point. His hand met the ball with full strength, which caused a very familiar slap sound to echo throughout the gym.

The ball sailed quickly through the air at an alarming rate until it reached the other side of the net.

_Easy_ , Oikawa thought to himself, as he landed back on even footing.

Except, it wasn’t–as he watched in mild fascination as Kuroo managed to receive the ball near flawlessly.

* * *

 

Seijoh’s locker room was filled with chatter and carefree banter after the scrim set.

Although it was usually more solemn after a loss, the players were in good spirits, knowing that they would be able to return home to Miyagi soon.

“Oi. You’ve been quiet,” Iwaizumi stated sternly, nudging his captain in the rib. “If you have something to say, then say it.”

“Iwa-chan, you always worry too much,” Oikawa replied airily, tugging on his athletic jacket. “I’ll be right back. Girlfriend’s calling~”

* * *

 

A white lie, of course. But he needed the space.

Oikawa hated losing. Detested it. Couldn’t imagine a fate worse than it, really.

He could’ve practiced more. Maybe he could’ve tossed a bit more precisely, instead of sacrificing that same precision for speed.

Mulling over the options he could’ve taken, Oikawa took a seat on the bench outside the school alone.

“Frowning doesn’t suit you, y’know.”

Shifting his gaze, Oikawa caught sight of the very familiar dark-haired captain of Nekoma, who was approaching from the main path of the school entrance.

He tugged at the strap of his cross-body bag slung over his shoulder.

“Kuroo-chan,” a smile formed on Oikawa’s face, as he settled with the petty little nickname. “This is a nice surprise.”

Taking a seat next to the brunette, Kuroo leaned back against the bench and stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, “You look pissed.”

Arching a brow in confusion, Oikawa blinked. Twice. He re-examined the smile he had put on for good show and asked, almost innocently, “Pissed?”

“You don’t have to do that, y’know,” Kuroo stated.

“Do what?”

“Act like that,” the dark-haired boy replied, meeting his gaze. “If you’re mad about something, then just say it.”

“I’m not mad–” Reaching his hand out, Kuroo managed to momentarily distract Oikawa with the motion, causing him to clamp up.

Then, Kuroo flicked him right in the forehead.

Wincing in pain, Oikawa blanched, covering the area on his forehead that was burning a furious shade of irritated red, “What was that for?!”

“You’re extremely frustrating, y’know,” Kuroo remarked. “Putting on a fake smile but acting dumb about it. Being sulky and pissed but pretending everything’s okay.”

Standing up and stretching his arms out wide, Kuroo let his gaze rest on the sun setting overhead–painting the skies blushes of pink. Something strangely and almost unnecessarily romantic, considering the circumstances.

“Well. I’ll let you sulk alone,” with a mock-salute, Kuroo took a step forward.

Reaching out quickly, Oikawa managed to latch a hand around his wrist. With a frown on his face, he managed to state, “Oi, you’re really annoying.”

Although the brunette was reluctant to let go, Kuroo’s sudden laugh managed to snap him back to reality–causing his grip to go limp.

“What’s so funny?” Oikawa snapped.

“It’s just–” Kuroo stared down at the pouting captain. “I think that’s the first honest thing you’ve said all day.”


End file.
